


To the Victor Goes the Spoils

by EmpressMermalaid



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cheesy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pokemon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressMermalaid/pseuds/EmpressMermalaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A oneshot Midotaka Pokemon!AU featuring Gym Leader Midorima and challenger Takao. </p><p>When Takao loses to Midorima without a cent in his pocket, he has to find some other way of paying the loser's fee...</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Victor Goes the Spoils

The lights burned bright overhead, casting long shadows of imposing proportions against the walls while the sharp, metal angles of the Gym stage glittered in a brilliant display of glamour. Pillars rose so high into the open roofed sky that the tips disappeared into the low hanging fog that clung to the citrus shadows that heralded the onset of twilight. Two figures stood under the harsh spotlights, staring one another down with a keen eye.

“Are you ready to face my challenge and win yourself a Crest badge?” a sharply dressed Midorima asked loudly, voice projecting to the corners of the stadium.

His hair was a mess of sharp veridian angles, the frames of his glasses winged in the flamboyant curve of a pidgey's feathers. He gestured to his opponent, a stoic, silver eyed and silver tongued challenger who had introduced himself only as 'Takao'. The mystery of his character intrigued the Gym Leader, who could only speculate on what types of moves and Pokemon he would see in their battle today. Midorima beckoned Takao closer. Their eyes met in a quick battle of wills before the dark haired challenger reached for his belt, pokeball in hand.

The battle itself was fierce, a full six pokemon to each party. Each challenge proved more difficult than the last, with neither side ceding any kind of ground in the heated struggle. Midorima's companions were all sepctacular in action, all high-soaring Flying types that set the fading colours in the sky alight with a flurry of flames, fountains and the dancing lights of electric sparks. The Crest badge was a notoriously difficult award to win, as Midorima's perfectly honed team were trained to take down even the strongest, and most well balanced menu of challengers. Takao, to his credit, presented an exhilarating competition, his varied team of types and fighting styles meaning Midorima was delighted to find he was kept constantly on his toes. And the man himself. Midorima had lost count of the battles he'd fought in during his illustrious time as Gym Leader and in that time he'd met and battled colourful characters from all walks of life. However, he had to admit to himself that he hadn't been quite so taken by any opponent like this before. He couldn't take his eyes off him...

He wasn't sure the black haired man even noticed the way he was starring... he was so caught up in cheering on his team, directing them from the sidelines with his passionate cries. Slowly but surely he war waged on, whittling down the soldiers on each side until they were both down to just one, single remaining pokemon. Midorima was both surprised and impressed. It had been an awful long time since anybody had made him work so hard for the win before. And he _would_ win, of that he was sure. He smirked, arranging his glasses comfortably before loudly and dramatically declaring that it was over now – Takao had been an admirable challenge, but it was time to put the nail in this coffin once and for all.

The thrill of victory, sealed with a perfectly landed ice beam was as cold as the stage after that move, dampened entirely by the way Takao's face fell a pang of regret pierced the Gym Leader's heart.

“Well,” Midorima stood victorious, arms crossed triumphantly in front of his chest, “you lost.”

Takao's face was stricken with disbelief, which he managed to suck up fairly quickly, even if the sour tint remained in his eyes.

“Good match,” he huffed bitterly, looking angry at himself over his defeat, instead of directing it towards the Gym Leader who'd stolen the win from right under his nose.

“If you like, I can take your loser's fee in person,” Midorima smirked, “I don't do that for just anyone, you know. Usually I have the doorman take it.”

"Ahh...” Takao inhaled sharply, ruffling his hair with a hand running through it almost nervously, “about that...”

“Yes?” Midorima snapped, almost too quickly.

“I don't... exactly... have any money.”

Takao made a decent show of looking appropriately both sheepish and apologetic, a smarmy grin on his defeated face as he shrugged.

“What?” Midorima's eyes had gone dark behind his glasses.

“I... uhh... I wasn't banking on losing today, to be honest,” Takao laughed as though this was a silly, trivial mix up, “- _literally_ – I wasn't banking on anything... since, yaknow... empty pockets and all!”

A flash of annoyance coursed up Midorima's spine and he felt in that moment that he may have even been capable of blinding Takao with the severity of his glare.

“Sorry?” Takao grinned sheepishly.

"It's... it's... it's the _rules_ ,” Midorima choked on his own words, stumbling over his own indignation that somebody was here before him right now trying to defy the very strict yet _incredibly simple_ rules of the Official Pokemon League.

You lost, you paid up. That was how it had _always_ been. In fact, who showed up to fight a Gym Leader with empty pockets? Why weren't people checking this kind of thing at the door to the Gym? Surely this sort of thing had happened before... clearly not enough to try and implement preventative measures. In fact, _who literally had no money on them at all_? Midorima's glasses flashed with annoyance, but as he stewed on his own irritation, something impossibly inappropriate came to mind. No, he couldn't... could he? He _was_ the Gym Leader in the town... Gym Leaders were known for having a great deal of influence and notoriously individual styles in more than just their battes. Midorima had heard of Gym Leaders doing worse and getting away with far worse than the thought that had just crossed his mind...

"Well...” Midorima's cough punctuated a very awkward silence in which Takao was slowly trying to inch his way to the door.

His grimace revealed how close he thought he had come to getting away totally free. He stopped where he stood.

“I really don't have any money,” Takao winced, hoping the Gym Leader would show him a little mercy. Midorima towered over him scarily.

Midorima might have looked like the perfectly painted image of composure but inside he was actually quite nervous. The more anxious he became, the more terrifying his exterior seemed to appear. It was quite the problem. Especially when he was trying to convey the very opposite message. He swallowed deeply and hoped that he hadn't been misreading the signals he'd been getting from Takao for the duration of the entire battle.

“You'll just have to pay.... with your body.”

Midorima pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a single finger. The smug look on his face was entirely unashamed of what he'd just suggested. Takao gaped at him, speechless. The seconds ticked on in absolute silence, until Midorima uncrossed his arms, looking expectantly at Takao for an answer. He was beginning to worry that he'd offended the challenger – it was awfully bold to suggest such a thing as sexual favours in lieu of payment – he didn't want Takao to think Midorima was misjudging the type of character he was. Midorima's mildly panicked thought train was suddenly interrupted by a cacophony of raucous laughter, Takao's face split into a painfully wide grin as he nearly exploded, mirth painting his entire face an atomic red as he struggled to breathe. Midorima couldn't help but scowl just as suddenly as Takao had begun to laugh.

“What the hell kind of cheesy porno line is that?” Takao laughed hysterically, bent at the waist as he slapped his knees in mirth.

Midorima turned bright red, immediately regretting his decision.

“Forget about it,” he muttered, hastily pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turning to stride away, shame covering him like a butt.

“No – no –!” Takao snickered, covering his mouth with his hand and jogging to catch up to the Gym Leader, “it's fine – I just... I think... that was a terrible line.”

Takao set himself off again, laughing loudly by Midorima's side, jovially clapping the green haired guy on the shoulder, despite the dirty look he was receiving in return. Wiping tears from his eyes and his mirth thinning to a low chortle, he turned to look at the opponent he had just lost to.

“I think it's a great idea. Terrible, _horrible_ line – but you're funny,” he turned to take Midorima's tie in his hand, running his thumb up it in a surprisingly sensual display of seduction, “and... cute.”

Midorima gulped.

“Let's go,” Takao purred, walking in the direction of the back room, dragging Midorima by the tie.

Midorima looked momentarily confused, but didn't dare challenge the direction things were going in. He let himself be lead to the door to backstage, where there was like a green room waiting area for when he was taking some down time between challengers on a busy day. It was small but luxurious, a small chaise lounge greeting them in the centre of the room, lined with low tables covered in bowls of exotic berries and nuts, along with foreign magazines and bottles of artisanal mountain water.

“This looks cosy,” Takao crowed, pulling Midorima inside and bumping the door shut with his hip.

Midorima was lost for words, but he didn't need them when Takao pushed him up against the wall, fingers curled around the collar of his shirt as he tugged the Gym Leader down to kiss him. Their lips met, softly at first – trying the waters – before they both moved to deepen the kiss, tongues pressed together in exploration. Takao moaned into the kiss, savouring the taste of his opponent – a sharp, lime tang on his lips. He could almost swear he could taste the bite of Midorima's arousal, the excited musk and heat coming hard and fast on his bated breath. Midorima gasped as Takao's wandering hand found the bulge in the front of his pants.

“Ohh~?” Takao purred, pulling away to glance down towards where his hand was massaging the outline of Midorima's erection, “what do we have here?”

“Hey-” Midorima squirmed, grasping at Takao's wrist in protest of this highly indecent display.

“You're the one who told me to _pay up_ ,” the black haired boy smirked, “a Kazunari always pays their debts.”

Midorima had no words to reply with – Takao had stolen them all with his devilishly good kissing technique. He gasped, feeling Takao's fingers undo the zip of his trousers and dig inside, somehow bypassing his underwear entirely and brushing against the sensitive curve of his erection. He jumped when he felt Takao's fingers grip it, his free hand shimmying Midorima's clothes further South, busying himself with getting the full scope of the Gym Leader's length.

Midorima's dick slowly hardened against Takao's palm as he pulled it free, wrapping his digits around the shaft and stroking while Midorima pressed himself back into the wall, arching his hips up to the touch. Takao smirked. With speed and dexterity unlike anything Midorima had ever seen before, Takao slid to his knees between the green haired man's legs, cock still in hand. With a wicked grin, making sure Midorima was watching, Takao opened his mouth wide, tongue peeking over his lower lip, before leaning forward and taking Midorima's length into his mouth. He moaned the moment the taste of precum hit his tongue and he slid it further down across his tongue until the tip was poking the back of his throat.

Midorima gasped, fingers coming to tangle in Takao's already messy hair, his entire body tensing and relaxing under the other boy's talented ministrations. Takao squeezed the base of Midorima's cock and struggled to work more of it into his mouth. It was stiffer than he'd anticipated – and longer too. It was pressing against his tonsils, making his eyes water despite himself, and he hadn't even covered it all yet. He wasn't the type to be deterred from a challenge though, as he'd just demonstrated quite effectively out on the stadium floor.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he pushed forward, letting more of Midorima's hardness press further into his throat, coating it with his saliva and relishing the taste of sex dripping down inside him to his core. His own dick twitched, neglected, straining against his painfully tight underwear but now was no time to consider that. He wanted to make Midorima feel good. He had a debt to pay, after all.

Midorima was losing himself above Takao. His nails scrambled to find traction on the empty wall behind him as Takao's mouth made him feel more and more out of control. He bit back loud cries that threatened to bubble over his lips at any moment, but he couldn't stop the strangled sighs from filling the air. They only served to spur Takao on further, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite how they were stretched wide to accommodate the delicious intrusion currently bucking in and out of his throat, making the front of his neck bulge with each thrust.

Midorima's nails, perfectly cut and shaped, dug into the back of his neck as Midorima came, emptying himself completely into the black haired boy's eager, waiting mouth. Moaning with the satisfaction of a job well done, Takao smirked and licked his lips. He cleaned Midorima's cock off almost lovingly – tracing his tongue up and over the underside until every last drop was gone. He swallowed with a visible sense of pride painted across his face.

“Will that do~?” Takao purred in a sing-song voice, nuzzling his cheek up against Midorima's sharp hip bone.

Midorima didn't dare do himself an injustice to his reputation as being a confident, cool and collected Gym Leader by daring to speak at that very moment. He could barely form a coherent sentence in his head, let alone trust those words to make their way through all kinds of processes to actually become verbal.

Just as Takao was getting to his feet, Midorima's hand tightened on his arm and the green haired man stared down at his opponent.

“Not enough yet?” Takao asked, a sheepish grin on his lips. He didn't seem to entirely hate the idea of having to work off his debts a little more... the bulge in his pants especially had no protests.

“Not yet,” Midorima returned a small smile, wry but very personal, and Takao felt his heart jump a little bit.

He stared, slackjawed, before he managed to pull himself together. Slapping Midorima on the back in a friendly kind of way, Takao burst with laughter as though he'd never quite had so much fun.

“Remind me to lose to you more often!”

“Please don't... the paperwork for the lack of _actual_ funds you're giving the Official League is going to be a nightmare for me.”

“Wha-... I'd still have to pay?” Takao's face fell, like a child who had just been told they couldn't have dessert that night.

Midorima tugged up his pants and slid down his glasses with his other hand. Cleaning the lenses of fogged up breath, he slowly wiped small circles into the glass with the hem of his shirt hooked around his thumb.

“Well... someone has to,” Midorima stated matter of factly once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of his glasses.

“But-”

Midorima put a finger to Takao's lips, giving him a knowing flash of his glasses.

“I'll cover it.”

Takao opened his mouth in surprise, as though a million words tried to all leave his mouth at once and got caught on each other, so all he managed was a silent, stunned looking fish impression. Before he could get an actual word out, Midorima took him by the hand and lead him further into the green room.

“We can dwell on that later,” he said.

“We've got a lot of getting acquainted to do...”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder that you can see more of my shit in the following places:
> 
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> 
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